


A Chink in the Armor is Never the Problem

by Arukou



Category: Iron Man (Movies), Iron Man - All Media Types, Marvel, Marvel (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Author is not a scientist, Explicit Language, Gen, Pre Tony Stark/Pepper Potts, drabble-ish, implied PTSD
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-19
Updated: 2014-06-19
Packaged: 2018-02-05 07:21:28
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,990
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1810054
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arukou/pseuds/Arukou
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tony's not feeling well and the arc-reactor is at 76% output and falling. It doesn't take a genius to see that something is seriously wrong.</p><p>Takes place between Iron Man I and II.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Chink in the Armor is Never the Problem

“Sir, sensors are reading a drop in arc reactor output.”

“What kind of drop are we talking?”

“Current power levels at 76% of maximum efficiency.”

“Well, that’s enough to get me back to Malibu, at least. Start preliminary diagnostics and have a report ready for me when I get home.”

“Of course, sir.”

Jarvis clicked out and it was just the wind and Blue Oyster Cult again. Tony was still high on his rather successful parlance in Geneva, and the Atlantic was glistening below him, distant and cool. He could just see the east coast in the distance, locked in green on the HUD. There was nothing as good as flying in this world. Not sex, not drugs, not alcohol. Nothing made him feel as amazing as this.

Tony hit New York air space at 4PM Eastern Standard, and looked down as the snow-strewn countryside stretched before him. He’d lost track of the days, flying around the world the past few weeks, but he had a feeling like he’d forgotten something.

“Jarvis, are we in February yet?”

“We are indeed, sir. In your current time zone, it’s Wednesday, February 17th.”

“I forgot Valentine’s Day.”

“To my knowledge, sir, you have no paramours this year in need of gifting.”

Tony tossed an eye roll at his invisible companion and banked south. “I’d been thinking of getting something for Pep.”

“Company credit card records show a purchase of Louboutin shoes and two dozen long-stem roses, delivered promptly to Ms. Potts on February 14th.”

“From me?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Did Pep order them?”

“Company records do not reflect the purchaser. However, shop audio records reflect that you did place a standing order for a Valentine’s Day delivery in January.”

“I don’t remember that.”

“At the time, sir, you had been awake for 56 hours and had imbibed approximately six shots of whiskey and one bottle of wine. I’m frankly impressed you were able to pull up a website, much less order anything.”

“I’ll give you to Google. See if I don’t, sassypants.”

“I quiver with fear, sir.”

“Did, uh…did Pep say anything? Send any emails?”

“The flowers and shoes were delivered anonymously. Ms. Potts has not sent any emails regarding the incident.”

“Huh.”

“Would you care to make further inquiries, sir?”

“No, uh, no. Just…When’s her birthday again?”

“May 6th, sir.”

“Maybe, could we order something? Art. She likes art, right?”

“Her management of your art collection leads me to believe that she is indeed an art ‘fan’, sir.”

“Always with the sass, Jarvis. Don’t you love me anymore?”

“You remain my favorite programmer, sir.”

“Reassuring. I’m your only programmer, after all. What were we talking about? Right. Art. Order something for her. Something awesome.”

“Awesome. Of course, sir. Right away. If I may inquire, sir, what brings about this stunning remembrance of important occasions?”

“What? A guy can’t do something nice for his PA?”

Jarvis’ silence held a certain kind of judgmental weight all on its own. Tony endured as long as he could, but he’d never exactly been the quiet type. “Pep’s…you know…she’s…I mean…” and for all that he always had a sharp quip or a quick retort, Tony couldn’t find the words to describe what Pepper Potts was to him.

“You know what? I’m Iron Man. I do what I want.”

“Marvelously mature logic, sir.”

Rather than argue more with his AI brain-child, Tony changed the subject. “ETA to Malibu?”

“At this speed, sir? Approximately two hours.”

“Can we punch it up?”

“Sir, the arc reactor output has fallen to 71%. I do not recommend stressing it.”

“Well, nobody ever learned anything doing the boring, safe thing, now did they?”

“I beg to differ, sir.” But Tony had already kicked the suit past Mach II.

* * *

 

By the time Tony touched down in Malibu, he knew something was seriously wrong. Somewhere over Nevada, his entire body had broken out in a cold sweat and his stomach was roiling. He barely got the helmet off before he lost his meager lunch next to the Corvette.

“Arc reactor output has fallen to 56%, sir. Shall I call your personal physician?”

“No,” Tony said, scraping at his mouth with a metal gauntlet. “I want to see your diagnostics first. I need…No doctors.”

“Very well, sir. Let’s finish getting you out of the suit, first.”

Tony staggered into the assembly and waited for the robots to clear everything, but he couldn’t stop shaking and it made the process take entirely too long. “Core body temperature at 97.2 degrees, pulse and respiration elevated. Sir, I believe this is cause for concern.”

“You think? Give me the specs,” he demanded as he staggered to his desk. Holograms flashed in front of him, diagrams of output, graphs charting power levels.

“Initial diagnostics have not proved conclusive. You may need to remove the arc reactor to allow further analysis.”

“Get my backup one.”

A compartment in his desk opened and he pulled out his replacement, looking down into the glowing light. All this pain, all this sacrifice, and somehow he still managed to screw up somewhere along the line. With a grimace, he pulled his shirt up and twisted the reactor in its socket, gently pulling it free. He’d streamlined the design further, removed the need for plugs and wires, but still he waited for the feeling of electric shock, water on copper, metal in his mouth. As he pulled the reactor away, the problem became glaringly obvious, smoke curling from the back of the arc wall

“Well, that’s not good.”

“Indeed, sir.”

Tony slid the spare into place, twisting it until it locked, tapping the crystal face over and over again as the light flickered and steadied.

“Replacement reactor output at 98%.”

“Analyze this sucker,” Tony said, holding up the smoking reactor for a laser vacuform. The hologram built itself in front of him, hovering tauntingly above his nose. “Explode it.”

The reactor pulled itself into pieces, arraying themselves in a neat line. “The source of the smoke seems to be the palladium ring, sir.

Tony reached into the hologram and extracted the palladium and its nickel and copper contact points.

“Is it a pyrophoric reaction?”

“Of a sort, sir. The rate of deterioration appears to be decelerated, but the palladium is burning itself out.”

Tony glared between the holographic ring in his fingers, the diagram exploded in front of his face, and the real core, lying smoking and fizzling on the table. “That burning…could it…would there be any negative effects? You know? On me?”

“I would suggest taking hair and blood samples to test that hypothesis sir. Palladium has been shown to be deadly to rats when given in certain concentrated doses.”

“Fun,” Tony murmured. “Let’s build some testing devices. And take this sucker apart. I want to get a look at it.”

“Of course sir.”

* * *

 

Twenty-three hours later and Tony had definitive evidence. Everything was laid out in front of him. The old palladium ring was orangey brown, and smelled vaguely like a forge. It had stopped smoking once Tony removed it from the arc reactor, but the damage was already done. He wouldn’t be able to use this one again. On the screens in front of him, results of arc reactor testing sprawled out next to his own body and chemical reads. The blood testing was discomforting, to say the least.

“You’re sure we can’t use an alloy, Jarvis?”

“All diagnostics lead me to believe that creating an alloy would decrease the palladium catalytic capacity beneath the necessary threshold to maintain the arc reaction. However, I believe a field test is not unwise.”

Tony leaned back in, running fingers through hair, wiping tired eyes. DUM-E loomed over his shoulder, helpfully offering a cup of coffee. For once, the robot seemed to have brewed everything properly.

“And blood toxicity?”

“Currently 300 micrograms per kilogram and rising.”

“And you said rats died at 5 milligrams per kilogram?”

“Yes, sir.”

“Well, that could be worse. It gives me some time.”

“I regret to inform you, sir, that the higher the concentration of palladium in your blood, the more quickly each palladium core will deteriorate.”

“Well thanks for that ray of sunshine.”

“Sir, Ms. Potts is on the line.”

“Tony! Board of directors meeting. Did you forget?”

He glanced up at the calendar suddenly flashing angrily across the screen. “Ah. Stark Expo planning. My favorite.”

“Where are you?”

“Workshop.”

“Tony!”

“I was working on important energy developments. You can’t rush genius.”

“Tony.”

“On my way Ms. Potts.”

“Tony!” It was amazing how she could speak entire sentences, entire paragraphs even, with just his name. Made him flinch every time.

“Pep, buttercup, honeybear. Did you like the shoes?”

“Did I…That was you?”

“Who else do you know who would send you expensive shoes and roses? Or have you been hiding a boy-toy from me.”

“I spend twenty hours a day working for you. There is no room for a ‘boy-toy.’”

“You didn’t answer my question.”

“They were lovely shoes. I’ll see you in twenty minutes or less, right?”

“I’ll take the suit.”

Her disapproval rang loud in the way she said nothing, but after a moment, she sighed. “Will that be all, Mr. Stark?”

“That will be all, Ms. Potts.”

He watched the line go dead on the upper right-hand side of the screen, and then slid over the reactor engineering designs again.

“Jarvis, I need you to start running material combinations. Let’s start with platinum catalysts like palladium and see if any of them can serve as a replacement core. One that won’t burn up with continuous oxygen exposure. After that, work your way out. Synthetic elements. Naturally-occurring compounds. I’m guessing an alloy’s going to be our best bet. More stable. And anything we can do to counteract the palladium poisoning. That would be helpful. And feel free to crack through military medical research if you need to.”

“Of course, sir. Always happy to irritate the top brass.”

And then it was back to work. Tony was in both a business suit and his real suit in less than ten minutes and off to placate his board of wibbling investors. He’d fought his way out of terrorist captivity, taken complete control of his company, and privatized fucking world peace, and that was with razor sharp metal three inches from the anterior wall of his heart. A little thing like heavy metal poisoning wasn’t going to stop him.

* * *

 

“Jarvis, I hate to say this, but we might actually be beat.”

“Perhaps not the best proclamation to make after 47 hours with no sleep, sir.”

“Only 47? Feels longer.”

“I imagine the palladium poisoning is taxing your body further than usual. I have found an alga extract that will help minimize and flush some of the blood toxicity.”

“Good. Order some. A lot. Order a lot. Like, a lot.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony stared at the screen, at all the projected tests and compounds and cores and schematics. And all of the red negatives listed next to them.

“Maybe we should go nuclear,” he murmured, scrolling through the platinums to the alloys.”

“Inadvisable, sir. Please keep in mind I am still running man-made compounds. I believe recent breakthroughs in carbon nano-engineering may be promising.”

“I wonder if we could coat it,” Tony murmured, tapping anxiously at the arc reactor humming in his chest. “Run some tests on coating options and electrolysis. If we can get something with high conductivity…”

“The heat output may be problematic.”

“Just run it,” Tony snapped and then stopped himself. That was when he felt it settle deep inside his chest, just to the left of the arc reactor. He’d keep looking and he’d keep trying, but there was a certain coppery flavor in the back of his throat. “I’m dying,” he whispered, and in a way, Jarvis’ silence was almost worse than an affirmation.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [tumblr](http://arukou-arukou.tumblr.com/).


End file.
